Painting
by marisa lee
Summary: Bubbles paints her first apartment... with some unexpected help. One-shot.


**Painting.**

**Bubbles paints a room in her first apartment—with some unexpected help.**

**The characters in this story are around 20 years old.**

**I don't own The PowerPuff Girls or any affiliated parties.**

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The kitchen was small, with minimal counter space, but it was a nice, bright, airy yellow that brought space into the room. Her bathroom was simply white tile all around, a bit like being in a white tile cage. The living room was also an indignant off-white that accented the large sliding glass door which led off to a nice little patio. But the bedroom left much to be desired. It came as an ugly, deep maroon, not at all the colour which Bubbles had been hoping for. So she spoke to the landlord, and with his permission, she ventured out to the home goods store and bought a few gallons of sky blue paint and some brushes and rollers. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

It couldn't be too hard, could it? All she had to do was coat the wall in a fine layer of the liquid sky and allow it to dry. A second coat couldn't hurt, either. She had decided that for her painting adventure she would wear one of her ill-used pajama shirts, which was loose and hung to her knees. She wore a pair of old shorts underneath, and pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail to get it out of the way. And she couldn't see how shoes were necessary in this situation, considering the fact that she could fly around the room without once touching the floor. Still, she coated the wood flooring in newspapers, just in case.

She dunked the fresh roller in the pan of paint and swirled it around a bit. She allowed the roller to drip into the pan and slowly raised it to the wall. She carefully rolled on a single line of the fresh blue paint and sighed in relief. This wasn't as hard as she'd thought it would be.

_Knock, knock_.

Bubbles rolled her eyes. Buttercup had told her that she would be coming over to visit and possibly help her paint sometime this week. But Bubbles didn't exactly _want_ her sister's help. She had been trying to finish before Buttercup even realized she'd begun, but it was too late. She'd been caught.

She set down the roller in the pan and wiped her hands on her shirt. There wasn't any paint on them, but just in case. She flew to the door and swung it open.

"Buttercup, I'm a little busy right now, can-" but she stopped dead when she realized that the figure standing at her door was not her green sister.

There was a man there, dressed in a white polo shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. He had long, shiny blonde hair which was flipped to the side. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue. He turned the corners of his lips up into a smile, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. In his hands, he held a blue pot with a cactus in it. He held it shyly out to Bubbles.

"Housewarming gift!" He exclaimed sheepishly. Bubbles stared at the token of welcome in his hands. It was a small, adorable cactus that would match the colour of her room perfectly. She shakily accepted his gift, reaching out and taking it into her arms.

"Boomer," she said slowly, still a bit confused. "Thanks... C-come in." She stepped to the side, allowing him to float over her threshold and into the living room. He peeked into the bedroom to his left, then focused his eyes on the girl in front of him. Even in sloppy painting clothes, she was beautiful.

"Painting?" he asked, gesturing to the newspapered floor in the other room. She shrugged in response.

"Attempting to, anyways," she responded with a sigh. Boomer clapped his hands together.

"Well, good thing I'm here then!" he said officiously. "I happen to be an expert painter!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well... no, but I painted this picture of an elephant in third grade once. It was wicked awesome."

Bubbles laughed. She didn't know it would be this easy to laugh around her used-to-be enemy. He'd become less shy, less idiotic, it seemed. He was more confident and... Kind. It had been too long.

"Alright, well, let's see what you've got!" she led him into the unfurnished bedroom and looked around.

"What an ugly colour," he said solemnly, regarding the maroon. "Let's cover it up before I have a nosebleed."

She laughed again. She couldn't resist it for some reason. She handed him the spare roller. He took it eagerly and rolled it in the pan without hesitation.

"Okay, here we go." He slowly, dramatically raised the roller to the wall. Bubbles held her breath for whatever reason. When at last the roller made contact with the wall, she sighed. She didn't know why she was holding her breath in the first place, but it made the task much more fun.

"Great job," she said happily. "You painted five inches of the wall. Now you can get this wall and I'll get that one." she pointed to the adjacent wall, grabbed another pan and her roller and floated over to the spot.

It was silent for a few minutes, as both of the blues worked on their sections of the room.

Bubbles was focused on one spot on the wall that didn't seem to want to be painted when she felt something cold run across her bottom. She squealed and whirled around. Boomer was following the wall with his paint roller, humming to himself.

"Boomer!" she laughed, exasperated. He had painted right over her butt and she now had a spot of blue paint all over the back of her old t-shirt.

Boomer stopped humming and looked up at her. "Oh... Sorry," he said laughingly, without sounding like he actually meant it. Bubbles rolled her eyes and flicked her roller at him. Tiny splashes of paint splattered across his face and into his hair. He closed his eyes, smearing the paint off his face with his hand.

Bubbles grinned smugly. "Oops."

Boomer raised his eyebrows. "Is that how it's gonna be?" he said, teasing her with his deep blue eyes. She just wiggled her nose and stuck out her tongue in response. Boomer dipped his roller into the pan and rolled it straight over Bubbles' shoulder. A bit of paint got on her skin where the sleeve ended.

She ran her own roller right over his chest, ruining his clean white shirt. Boomer lowered his eyes.

"Alright then," he said, tossing his roller to the side. Bubbles didn't have any time to wonder what he was doing before he dipped his entire hand into the bucket of paint and flipped the paint at her. A huge splatter of paint hit her right in the chest, the rest of it splattering onto the wall behind her. She followed his lead and dropped her own roller, dipping her hands into the paint can and planting two handprints right on his back. He stuck his other hand into the paint and pressed two hands right on her chest... in a very inappropriate position.

Bubbles gasped and pulled away from him, but he snatched her around the waist, wrapping his arms around her with a laugh.

"Let me go!" she laughed, trying to get away. But she was laughing too hard and her attempt was feeble. He had her around the waist and the paint was splashing everywhere. Everywhere, that is, except for the wall.

Moments later, Bubbles and Boomer were both covered from head to toe in a layer of baby blue paint. Boomer had stopped coming for her after Bubbles tossed the entire bucket of paint over his head. He was completely doused in the paint, and he looked like a smurf. His white shirt was no more, not a single spot of the once-white fabric was visible.

Bubbles was no better, the two handprints still on her chest as well as two on her waist where he'd grabbed her. There was paint in her hair, a blue smudge on her cheek and another spot right on the tip of her nose.

The blues' eyes met, each laughing and smiling like they hadn't done since they were kids. Suddenly, the laughter stopped, they each gazed into each others' eyes meaningfully. In about three seconds, before either had any idea what the other was doing, Boomer had Bubbles pressed up against the ugly, maroon wall, and their eyes met one final time before he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, and the paint smudged on their faces.

Boomer's hands found a familiar place on her hips, his arms wrapped tightly around her. There was barely any space between them. Bubbles reached up and touched his face with her painted hands, leaving a smudge on his cheeks.

Neither of the blondes heard the door to the apartment swing open, and neither noticed Buttercup enter the room.

She rolled her eyes, muttered, "Typical," and then called loudly, "I'll just come back later!" Buttercup left as quickly as she'd come.

Bubbles had heard her, way in the back of her mind, but she was a little too busy painting her room to respond.


End file.
